


How M&S Stole Christmas Back

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Haunted Houses, House Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10113371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: In the real estate listings, Mulder and Scully see a house they recognize from a few Christmases ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Post-S10 (no spoilers)  
> A/N: Written for the XFFicChallenges anonymous challenge.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

:Scully, look.” Mulder’s finger taps the screen of his laptop. She leans in close to look. In the midst of the real estate listings for benign suburban homes, she sees a house she recognizes. 

“Mulder, no,” she says.

“Why not?” he asks. 

“You and I are not buying a haunted house,” she says. "Especially not one in which we almost died.“

"We only imagined we almost died,” he corrects her. "Some kind of very festive hallucination.“

"Mulder, our bodies were under the floor.” She crosses her arms.

“Those clearly weren’t our bodies,” Mulder hedges. "We made it out alive, didn’t we?“

"In a manner of speaking,” she says, her voice as dry as she can make it. 

“It’s only haunted once a year,” he says. "We’ll just plan never to be home for Christmas. That won’t be hard.“

"Mulder,” she says, exasperated.

“Scully,” he says, taking her hands. "It comes as is. Furniture and all. You can’t tell me you don’t want your own personal library. A parlor. A formal dining room. A kitchen bigger than my old apartment.“

"A haunted house,” she says.

“You don’t believe in ghosts,” he reminds her.

She levels an icy glare at him. "I made an exception.“

"Come on, Scully,” he says. "It’s a bargain. Any other house you would have called already if it had a price like this.“

"Any other house with a price like this, I would have asked what the catch was,” she says. 

“Three hundred and sixty-three days a year admiring our original wood paneling,” he says. "Christmas Eve and Christmas Day we can spend with your family. I’ll learn to love Bill.“

"I think it would be easier to learn to love Charlie,” she says, trying to pretend she’s not giving ground. "Or to book a hotel.“

"If we got really inspired, we could give Christmas tours,” he says. "Make a little money putting the fear of Christmas into people.“

"No,” she says. "Absolutely not, Mulder. That would be completely irresponsible. They aren’t happy friendly ghosts, just moving things around and rattling their chains in the attic. They’re murderers.“

"No Christmas tours, then,” he says. "Who knows if they’d even show themselves for a tour group.“

"Stop planning our lives in this house,” she tells him. "I haven’t agreed to anything yet. There’s so much we don’t know. What if they make an appearance on Halloween or Labor Day?“

"It’s not like you haven’t shot me before,” he teases.

“Those were very different circumstances,” she grumbles. 

“I don’t think they can change,” he says. "You were right, Scully. They’re just echoes. They have the power to manifest one night a year, and to manipulate, but that’s all that’s left of them.“ 

"You’re not making me sad about a couple of ghosts who tried to kill us,” she says.

“Technically speaking, they tried to get us to kill each other,” Mulder tells her.

“That isn’t better,” Scully says. 

“We could at least go see it,” Mulder says. "Don’t tell me you don’t want to see the other rooms.“

"I can’t imagine the plumbing’s in good shape,” she tells him. "And I’m sure the heating would need to be replaced.“

He leans in to gaze at the screen again, scrolling a little. "New two years ago. Apparently the owners of the house are desperate to get rid of it. For some reason, nobody’s buying.”

“In this market, I can’t imagine people wouldn’t take a chance on a haunted house,” Scully says.

“This house is our destiny,” Mulder tells her.

“I don’t believe in destiny,” she says automatically. 

“Come on, Scully,” he says gently. "Come look at the house with me.“

"Mulder, it’s almost Christmas,” she says. 

“Then we’ll know whether or not the heat works,” he says. "And whether the ghosts are there if it’s not Christmas Eve.“

"Of course they’re there,” she says. "The physical manifestation of a spirit is not the only evidence of a haunting.“

"You sound like a regular ghost hunter,” he says, smiling at her. His eyes crinkle in that way she’s always loved.

“Fine,” she says. "We’ll look at the house. But looking is all we’re doing, Mulder.“

"Doesn’t it feel like we’re coming full circle, Scully?” he asks. 

“Maybe when I’m walking over those gorgeous tile floors instead of imagining that I’m bleeding out on them,” she mumbles. 

“Maybe when we’re in the library and the books aren’t pulling themselves off the shelves,” he suggests.

“Maybe when the doors don’t lock themselves and the hall clock doesn’t keep perfect time all by itself,” she says.

“I’ll wind it,” he promises. 

“We’ll never be home for Christmas,” she says wistfully.

“Home is where you are, Scully,” he says, and she looks at his warm hazel eyes and believes him. Mulder, her own personal Christmas miracle, guided by a light that others don’t see. She thinks of their night with the ghosts, how the most important gift she got that Christmas was the knowledge that she and Mulder meant more to each other than she had even imagined. She drops her hand to the keyboard and clicks through the photographs. The house is even lovelier than she remembered - which makes sense, given that their first experience there wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. But if there’s anything they know now, it’s how to reclaim the spaces and memories that trauma has tainted. 

“Call the realtor,” she says. 

They put in an offer the next day.


End file.
